Caught Up In Rebels
by Crazyfangirl23
Summary: Hayffie: the ship that is known mostly for its alcohol, manners, raging fights and torrid love affairs.
1. Chapter 1

She walked down the long corridor, positioning her luminous wig as she did. Her feet were quite sore, and her dress was heavy, but she was used to this, and she endured it everyday, to look decent. She thought of the way Haymitch never fully appreciated her appearance, or her work, really. She turned, into the elevator, and pressed the buttons with her long fingernails. She wondered if Haymitch... Talk of the devil. He strolled into the elevator, only inches apart from Effie, his drunken stupor making him lean slightly forwards, his eyes unfocused. As they started their descent, the elevator awkwardly silent, Haymitch grunted something unintelligible.

'What was that?' She asked, looking expectantly at him.

'I said everything's going to change now.'

And Effie could do nothing else but agree. Everything has changed. Everything is going to change. She felt so sorry for Katniss and Peeta. The torture of facing another treacherous Games was never just a coincidence. She had already started to doubt and even look down upon the city she had grown up in, for the luxury was so contradicting to the poor districts.

Her musings were interrupted by Haymitch shuffling out the elevator, his head bent slightly. Snapping into action once again, she followed him out, her heels clicking on the polished floor. She was always quite nervous around Haymitch, for no one never really knew what state he would be in. Mostly, in a drunken one, but she had also seen a caring, and helpful side to him, that was brought out by Katniss and Peeta. She walked over to the table, laden with foods she recognised instantly, from her luxurious upbringing. She had always forgotten that Haymitch originated from District 12, he was so used to the grandeur of the Capitol. She wondered how many people would disapprove of loving a district-originated person. Not that it would happen to her...or not that she would care...

She took a seat, trying to avoid eye contact with Haymitch, who sat diagonally across from her, still trying to wake himself from his alcohol consummation. She ate tentatively, the room deafened in silence as they all sat there, gloom in all of their eyes. She saw Katniss neglecting her food, and Peeta only taking the smallest of mouthfuls. She herself finished, and everything was still silent, threatening to become permanent. Effie felt as sad and miserable as they all felt, and at a lost for words. She usually spoke the most at dinner, though she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She remembered when she was sat there, watching President Snow deliver his speech and announce the daunting Quarter Quell twist. When she had took in what he had said, she grew most agitated, shouting at the screen as if she was arguing with the President himself. Once she had calmed at least enough to think, her heart broke. Her heart literally broke when she realised Haymitch was one of those victors. She knew Katniss would have to face the Games no matter what, as she was the only female victor. But either Peeta or Haymitch would have to go back. She had heard that when Haymitch saw the announcement, he threw liquor bottles at the President's snake-like and evil (she had realised) face. She couldn't help but smile when she was told that.

When she unraveled that piece of paper at the Reaping, with the name 'Haymitch Abernathy' her heart leapt to her mouth and her stomach somersaulted. The pain struck her hard, for she realised he would never come back. She swallowed back the tears that were eventuating. She looked painfully into his eyes, the composure she held lost in that moment. But Peeta volunteered. She couldn't explain how relieved she was when he did, much to Haymitch's protests and Katniss' looks of pain. She recognised the pain on Katniss' face to the pain that displayed her face seconds ago. She loved Peeta like he was her own son, but she couldn't help the relief flood through her when he volunteered, much to her guilt. Haymitch would still be part of the team, as a mentor. He had always been a mentor. She was determined to prove to the Capitol that they were a team, to show them how strong they were, despite their misery.

That night was awful. She was pained to see Haymitch shouting and threatening, ranting and pacing back and forth in an animalistic manner, the liquor bottle swinging freely from his hand. Yet even in a rage he was still so...

Her mind whipped back to her surroundings, for she realised she had been in a stupor. She looked confusedly at the chairs opposite her, and realised that they weren't any longer occupied. It was just her and Haymitch. She looked at him, his bright blue eyes looking despairingly back, and she thought of the ranting Haymitch, shouting and pacing and broken. It was like someone had replaced his sarcasm, his humour, his care behind, and left a look-alike, despaired and lost. With that thought, she stood up from the table, lingered there another awkward second, and paced briskly out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

The only thing he depended on since his Hunger Games was drink. It was why he drunk so much, why he slept with a knife in his hands, why he was remotely uninterested in anything else than alcohol. He had become dependent on it, like being dependant on the air to breathe. But he had realised, after all those years of mentoring, after watching all those tributes die, after the horror of his own games, and the nightmares that still presented fresh in his mind, that after mentoring Peeta and Katniss, and having Effie, proved his survival. With them around he felt more secure and himself. It was really weird and unprecedented, but they had all given him help and support. It was a shame, therefore, that Katniss and Peeta were re-entering the Games. He couldn't help Peeta volunteering, and he was really sorry for Katniss but...when Effie read his name out, the only thing he thought of was Effie. In that moment, before Peeta volunteered, they both stared at each other, and came to the understanding of no return. He couldn't help but realise that his heart skipped a beat when he looked at her, for she looked heartbroken, near to tears, and he knew himself he also looked something like that. His thought was of the life they could've had, the way he could've treated her as he wished too. He owed Effie so much, she was company, she was his friend. But in that second, he knew. He knew he wanted more than friends. He knew he was pining, and he wasn't sure if Effie felt that way, but he definitely knew she felt pain, he could see it in her eyes. It was probably the only time he had fully looked into them, noticed the colour, warm and caring. And then Peeta volunteered, to his protests, because of course, he and Katniss had made a deal. He still felt guilty, remembering the relief drain his body when Peeta volunteered, though he did want to save him and help Katniss. But he realised, that if he had gone back to the arena, he would've left everything the way it was. He didn't want that. He wanted to see change, peace, civillization, Peeta, Katniss, and above all...Effie. After thinking he would lose her, he didn't, and that made her even more special, and even more relieved that he was alive, for he needed to speak to Effie, needed to hold onto her as long as he possibly could, for he couldn't miss another chance like the one he nearly did.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days were better, as she was kept busy, and the others had all started to focus on the coming Games. She loved the enthusiasm they beholded, for even though they were up against experienced killers, they still concentrated on everything, planning tactics and talked of making alliances.

The idea of being a team grew to that of symbols. She had her gold hair, Katniss had her Mockingjay pin, and the boys... She would have to get a gold token for them to mark their teamship.

She couldn't bear watching the Games. Katniss and Peeta were sent off to the arena, and the rooms were silent, the place deserted apart from her and Haymitch. There was nothing to say and nothing to do, so conversation was scarcely limited. The silence was so deafening, she began to keep busy by polishing her mahogany tables. She remembered when she had shouted 'That is mahogany!' to Katniss after she stabbed the wood with a knife. She had actually been more concerned about Haymitch's hand, as she plunged the knife right between his fingers. And though it made a dent in the expensive and beautiful wood, she said it only to divert the attention and embarrassment if she said Haymitch.

She was so close to saying 'That is my Haymitch!' 1. Haymitch wasn't hers and 2. Awkward. She knew it was forbidden to love a district originated person. She knew the risks. But it didn't stop her.

She walked toward the kitchen, a beautifully furnished area with fine marble worktops and cupboards that were gilt-framed. She walked round, trying to rid her head of its dizziness. Everything was changing. She knew it. She felt only hatred for the Capitol after all they had done, finally realising she had been a participant in the killing of the districts. She was from the Capitol, it was her fault. She didn't want this. She wanted to prove that even though she was Capitol originated, she had learnt from her mistakes, learnt more than she had ever learnt now she was more educated in the Capitol's schemes. She wanted to be a representative of all the Capitol citizens that took pity and didn't want war, like her.

Smack! She turned around so quick she thought she was going to fall. Haymitch, a knife in his hand, had stabbed the table before him. Not just any table. A mahogany table.

'That is mahogany Haymitch.' She said quietly, her voice strained of all emotion as though all it's tone was gone.

'I know.' He replied. He reached up toward the cupboard, his arm inches from her face, his body behind her. He reached for a liquor bottle. She spun around and grasped the bottle from his hands, his face turning from shock to anger.

'You've had enough alcohol for one day Haymitch.'

He grabbed it back from her, prised the cap off the top and swigged as fast as he could, before Effie could even react.

'Haymitch! You've had enough alcohol! You don't need to waste yourself away.'

His expression was hard to keep out of her mind and his face became red.

'What do you care Effie? What do you care if I become drunk up to my eyeballs? What do you care if I waste away? What do you care if I went back to the arena?'

She faltered. She was too hurt and shocked to say anything. He stood there, staring, the liquor bottle swinging freely from his fingers.

'I do care! I care as much as you do! I don't want you to get drunk! I would never want you to go back to the arena! Did you not get the look on my face when I read your name out?'

He said nothing, the liquor bottle far from his mind.

'Be realistic Haymitch. We both know how we looked when I read your name out. There's no point trying to deny it. Just because I'm from the Capitol doesn't mean I don't have feelings Haymitch! I realise now that the Capitol is just a heartless city of heartless people. Some people, like me, are starting to realise that the Capitol is somewhat evil, and some people are dictators like President Snow that want more power. Don't you think I don't know that? Of course I do!'

'Effie...'

'I hate it when you're in this state. I hate...'

She was caught by utter surprise, as Haymitch rushed forward and kissed her. She kissed back, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

'I hate you.' She said. Haymitch smiled. 'Same as usual then.' And he kissed her fiercely, so unlike Haymitch, so passionate and new. Her feet danced in her high heels, and she slipped, Haymitch spinning her around the other side and catching her head only a few inches from the mahogany table. He stepped forward, and they landed on it, Effie beneath him. She gazed up into his eyes and said 'I told you. This is mahogany.'

His weight pressed hers against the table, his face only inches from hers.

'You were never really concerned for that mahogany table were you?' He said, his gaze so intense her heart fluttered. 'No. I don't give a damn whether it's mahogany or pine. But I do care about you Haymitch Abernathy. And that's why I almost said 'That is my Haymitch' instead.'

'Oh, so I'm yours now?'

'You were always mine.'

And his lips pressed onto hers, and she forgot everything about the world. She forgot everyone in the world. There was only Haymitch.


	4. Chapter 4

He sat, staring at the wall. He had kissed her. He had kissed her, and she had kissed back. She couldn't care less if it was mahogany or pine...

Haymitch couldn't believe she said he was hers. He wanted to be hers. He wanted to sweep her off her feet, he wanted to kiss her like there would be no tomorrow. But he had to plan a rebellion. He had to avoid distractions, to ensure there even was a tomorrow. He hadn't seen Effie since he had kissed her, and he almost felt alone without her presence. He had always kept his feelings a secret, and he couldn't help but realise all the opportunities he had had to gain Effie's love in the past. And now it had all come down to this. He placed his head in his hands, her lips on his entering his mind.

A sound came from his doorway, and he looked up to see Effie, her purple dress and wig the brightest thing in the room. He admired how she could make him so safe, lighting up the world even though it was falling into darkness.

'Effie.' He gasped, surprised.

'I wanted to watch the Games...to know that Katniss and Peeta are safe. I didn't want watch it alone. Would you watch it with me? It's okay if you don't want to, it's painful enough for me too.'

'No,' he interjected quickly, standing up. 'I'll watch with you. I need to see what's going on.'

He moved to his chest of drawers, where a tumbler half full of whiskey stood. He drank it down quickly and followed Effie out the room. God, how he wanted to hold her hand, how he wanted to touch her face, kiss her neck, love her. His arm brushed against hers, and Effie's hand slid down his arm to clutch at his hands. She didn't look at him, and he didn't look at her, but he could feel his heart thump against his rib cage and his stomach flip. They entered the main room, where a big TV stood in front of them. He switched it on, and the Games flashed onto the screen, watching intently to see Katniss and Peeta. They were alive, and his body swelled with relief. If their names were in the sky, it would all be ruined...the plan...the rebellion. Effie gasped with relief, her hand to her heart. His arm went round her, and he pulled her close. Her head was placed on his chest, his hand stroking her back, his eyes momentarily closed. He wished he could freeze the moment forever, his head leaning on hers, her body warm and elegant. They watched the Games until it was dark, the night cloudless and full of stars. The screen went blank then, and he could feel Effie's heart beat, could smell the perfume she wore, could hear her breathing, and he wondered how she could be so beautiful, wondered how this moment took so long to arrive. She leaned up from him, her eyes blurry as if she was holding back tears. 'Thank you Haymitch.' She whispered, her mouth curved into a small but uplifting smile which made his heart skip. She walked out the room as he watched her, his eyes twinkling and his humour back to normal. 'Thank you.'


	5. Chapter 5

'Haymitch? Haymitch! I can't bear it! Help me, please help me!'

She tossed and turned, the cold stone floor making her head and back ache.

She opened her eyes, only seeing blackness in the small box-like prison cell. She gasped, her silent sobs catching in her throat. She had screamed from her terrible nightmare, called Haymitch's name even though she knew he would never save her from this prison. She banged her fists against the floor, her tears falling rapidly from her eyes, her screams of agony and torture deafening her ears.

'Haymitch...' She whimpered, her voice breaking through to her cries of help. She would never see him again. She would be tortured to death in this prison cell like they already did to the other prisoners. She screamed his name once more, her voice tearing at her parched throat, her hatred for the Capitol fresh in her mind.

'Did anyone call?' said a familiar voice. It was Haymitch, a key in his hand, unlocking the door. She gasped, her tears flowing down her face to her dress. 'Haymitch!' She cried, running at him and embracing him so fiercely he stumbled backwards, holding her tight. She gasped and cried in his arms, whimpering his name over and over.

'It's okay princess. I got you.'

'The Capitol...it's been torturing people Haymitch. I've seen it. I was next in line. What are you doing here?'

He withdrew and stared at her. 'I couldn't leave you here. Plutarch's outside. We need to get out of here.'

'How did you get here? How did you sneak into the Capitol?'

'Never mind sweetheart. We need to go.'

His eyes looked down at her with such compassion she thought her heart would break. She hugged him again, her body pressed against his, her mind processing all that had happened. Even though she was in the Capitol, in a prison, Haymitch's arms made her feel safer, made her feel warm.

'Thank you Haymitch. Thank you so much.'

'I couldn't leave you to be tortured. Now follow me and stay quiet.'

Her heart throbbed with love, her head spinning. He took her hand, leading her put of the cell.

'I would never let them torture you.'

District 13 was strict, boring and grey. Literally grey. She looked at herself, grey overalls to replace her dresses, her makeup nearly non existent. She missed her wigs, for the only thing she had on her head was more grey material, shaped to form a sort of head wrap that was very popular in the Capitol when she was growing up. She thought she would at least get coffee, or better living spaces. She also didn't like the leader, President Coin. She had no sense of fashion, she was strict, and as boring as the district she lead.

But it was nothing compared to the torturous nights in the Capitol cell. She couldn't stop the nightmares dominating her dreams, threatening to consume her. She owed so much to Haymitch and Plutarch, who had rescued her from her prison. And even though Plutarch was getting on her nerves, she tried her best to avoid arguing, even when she couldn't help the words coming out of her mouth.

Everyone was gathered around the table to watch Katniss' propo. As it ended, she looked over at Katniss, with a look of pity on her face. She knew it was awful, but she tried not to show it. There was an awkward silence, and then Haymitch got up and addressed them all.

She felt terribly self-conscious around Haymitch because of her appearance. She felt much lighter without her corset, her dresses, her wigs, she felt so underdressed.

'Let's everybody think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you.'

She raised her hand consciously, like she was afraid to answer.

'When she volunteered for her sister at the reaping.'

He looked at her and replied. 'Excellent example.' Her heart skipped, as he wrote it on the board behind him. She couldn't help but notice how terrible his handwriting was.

'Good. What else?'

'Oh. When she sung that song for little Rue.' She replied, studying his body, how he moved.

'Oh yeah. As if we didn't get choked up at that.'

He looked at her, his eyes assessing the way she looked.

'You know Effie, I like you better without all that makeup.'

Her hands went consciously to her hair, and her cheeks went slightly pinker. She would've thought that he was being humorous, but he said it with sincerity, and she knew that he really meant it.

'Well I like you better sober.'

Her voice went all high and flattered, her tone very flirty. Haymitch turned to look at her, his face looking shocked and also slightly embarrassed. She stared back, her smile stretching across her face, keeping in her laughter at his bewildered face. She couldn't believe how flirty she had said it, but she didn't care at all. Everyone round the table momentarily looked at them, until Beetee stepped in to add a comment. Thankful that the attention had been averted from her, she looked down to hide her smile, her eyes looking toward Haymitch as she did. Amongst all this panic, all this preparation for a rebellion, all the fear and hope combined, at least she knew there was still Haymitch's humour and sarcasm, her flirting and helpfulness. And even amongst a nation of darkness, she still saw the light.


	6. Chapter 6

He tossed and turned, scowling and cursing at the bed that was as hard as a rock. District 13 didn't impress him much for an underground district that was believed not to exist for 75 years. And the beds were not the comfiest, the blankets not the warmest, but he was just used to the luxury of the Capitol and the Victors Village. Or what was the luxury, since most of the supplies had been cut short and entirely ran out during the uprising of the districts. It was ironic that the Capitol needed the districts to survive, and yet they tortured them with an annual Games, spreading fear and control and domination throughout Panem. It was exactly how President Snow put it - the Capitol was the heart, and the districts were the functions that provided the heart with what it needed to survive. Well, take away the functions and you don't get a beating heart much longer...

The door opened suddenly, making him momentarily jump. Effie leant against his door, tears streaming out of her eyes, her face contorted with a familiar look of fear.

'Haymitch!' She cried, her voice broken.

He got to her, putting his arms round her tightly, her head against her chest, weeping into his shirt.

'Shhh.' He said, rocking her gently from side to side.

'The nightmares get to everyone sweetheart. You're just not used to them. You've experienced torture and pain and a completely different change of scenery, and I know it has to be hard for you, because you grew up in the Capitol. I used to get horrible nightmares, especially after my Games, they occurred every night. I still get them even now.'

Her sobs subsided, her breathing slowing down.

'Haymitch?' She whispered, looking into his eyes. 'Could...could I stay with you?'

He looked down at Effie, and a searing pain grew in his chest. He'd never seen her like this before, and he never wanted to see her again like that. His heart radiated warmth and love throughout his body, and he smiled at her. 'Of course you can.'

He embraced her once more, his eyes shut tight. He walked over to the bed, and slid in, gesturing Effie to get in too.

His arms wrapped around her, his face only inches from hers. He noticed the head wrap that was on her head and smiled.

'Do you still wear that thing to bed?'

'I don't want anyone to see me without it. And I miss my wigs.'

He laughed, his body wavering as he did.

'You look so much better without all that makeup Effie, truly. I can finally see the colour of your eyes. And your dresses too. You don't need to dress that fancy to impress anyone. You look so...natural. But there's one thing missing.'

'My hair.' She whispered.

'Take it off Effie. Please. This isn't the Capitol. No one would make fun of you.'

She looked up at him, and he wondered how she could make his heart thump and his stomach spin in unison. He wondered if she felt it when he looked at her.

She didn't respond, so he took hold of the grey cloth, and she could see her eyes closing as he slid it off her head.

Wavy blonde curls cascaded down her neck, and she looked up at him, his hand stoking her blonde hair tenderly.

'You're...beautiful.' He said in awe.

'Your beautiful Effie. I've no idea why you would want to cover yourself up in makeup and dresses and wigs. You don't need them. All that time we've known each other and I've never seen you look so beautiful or normal. You don't need them at all.'

His fingers threaded through her hair, his tone quiet but sincere, meaning every word he said. She really did look gorgeous, and if he saw her without knowing, he would never have thought it was her. She looked so different from her Capitol self, and way better.

'What made you hide away your beauty like that for all those years?'

'Haymitch, this is the first time you've seen me normal and I am not beautiful.'

'You are.' He said, so flirty he thought Effie would slap him. 'You're stunning.'

'I'm not used to that. I'm not used to anyone calling me beautiful and definitely not from you.'

'You better get used to it then.' Clearly implying the double meaning.

'I don't get how you can do that.' She said, staring him straight in the eye.

'Do what?'

'Charm me. Like I'm your favourite person in the wor-'

'You are. You always have been. You always will be.' He whispered, his heart rate quickening.

'I love you Effie.'

He had said it. He had finally said it to her after all the years, after everything.

'I love you Haymitch.' His heart somersaulted, her whisper the loudest thing he had heard her say. The best thing.

'I love you.' She said again, but with the same tone she had used when she said 'I like you better sober.' She said it with real sass, and that's one of the things he loved about Effie: Sass, flirting, high standards and being completely oblivious by her obvious beauty. Out of everything Effie had ever said, it was first, with 'I like you better sober' and 'that is mahogany!' second and third.

He leaned down after she said it, and kissed her. His arms wrapped even tighter around her, his hands to her cheeks and his eyes closed. It was the best moment of his entire life. The best thing that had ever happened to him. He pulled her closer to him, kissing her with more passion, kissing her with all the energy he had, for he had never felt more alive. It lasted until Effie drew away, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek.

'I never thought you would say that. I dreamed, I wished, but never thought.'

'Same.' He replied, taking her hand.

'I love loving you. I hate you as much as I love you.'

'Pretty much sums both of us up.' She said, and he laughed.

'I can't get over how beautiful your hair is. How beautiful you are.'

'You keep saying that, flattering me.'

'Flatter me then.'

'I can't get over how long it took you to become sober.'

'Now that...was flattery.' He said, laughing.

They both laughed, until they're expressions became more serious again.

'The rebellion has got in the way of everything.' He said, his hand on her hair. 'And if there is a war...we'll probably be killed.'

'We won't. We'll be safe.'

'At least promise me you'll be safe.'

'I can't make a promise like that Haymitch.' She whispered.

'I've nearly lost you before. I'm not losing you again.'

Effie looked up, obviously remembering the reaping and her imprisonment in the Capitol. He thought of his Games, how he had 'cheated'. So Snow killed everyone important to him. And he had almost taken Effie away from him, and taken her away already once. He wasn't going to let him take Effie again. Never.

'I'll stay with you. Be with you. Forever.' Her voice resonated in his mind, her blurry eyes slowly birthing tears.

'I love you. I don't care if I keep saying it. I don't care. I love you Effie Trinket. Forever.'

'I love you too. And I don't care if I keep saying it. I love you Haymitch Abernathy. Forever.' She whispered back.

He looked at her with so much love he thought his heart would break. She had a way with words that could charm you instantly.

Her mouth met his, her arms at his neck, his arms round her waist, her hair on his chest.

'Forever and ever.' She murmured, his eyes momentarily meeting hers.

'Ever and ever.'


	7. Chapter 7

No one could fathom the explanation of why Effie Trinket was walking round with full blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders, barely unrecognisable with no makeup and no dress, or why she was all of a sudden close to Haymitch, or even why someone had seen them walking out of Haymitch's room that morning. But as much as she liked attention, her and Haymitch's private matter was not being rumoured, which made relief flood through her, ending the slight embarrassing feeling of her reaction if it was rumoured to be true. And as for her completely new look, everyone walked past her without recognising her, and only Katniss (and Haymitch of course) twigged it was actually her and not some random person entering the meeting.

Although, everyone at the meeting did notice a change between her and Haymitch's behaviour, and from what she could see, they all looked quite shocked when witnessing the flirty banter that they shared between themselves.

Of course, they didn't know anything and she preferred to keep it that way. God knows what kinds of reactions they'd receive. She'd hate to even think about it.

The day went by usually, until night, when the nightmares came. Her body was pressurised under the influence of the dream, and it took her a while to come to her senses again, even when Haymitch held her tight while she yelled in horror, his consoling voice the only real comfort. It got worse every night, until she got to the point where she refused to sleep, and watched Haymitch sleep instead. It was quite peaceful, watching him sleep, his breathing slow and steady, his hands clasped in hers. She had tried getting more sleep as the nights went on and her state worsened, and it did help to have Haymitch beside her. He helped her massively, until finally, she went through a whole night without a bad dream.

'Wake up sweetheart.' He said, shaking her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, Haymitch's eyes the first thing she saw.

'You went a whole night without screaming. Well done princess. It was very peaceful, and it would be great if you could keep it that way.' He smiled, his humour and sarcasm never faltering.

The war. The war. The war. It was terrible. Casualties from every part of Panem. Bombs, fire, explosions, floods of rebels storming the Capitol. He tried to keep Effie as close to him as possible, his hands shaking as he took hold of the aircraft and circled it around the Capitol, steering it with an apprehensive enthusiasm. Hope of course, was what drove Haymitch and the rest of the rebels to keep on fighting, to carry on until victorious. The worst part was definitely the moment when Effie had to go. She had to go and help, and despite his protests, he couldn't go with her. He kissed her there and then, in front of Coin and Plutarch, but he didn't care at all, and neither did Effie, promising promises that couldn't be guaranteed. But he wasn't giving up. He took charge, and saw the ruin of the Capitol, the dead corpses lying discarded on the floor, all the while thinking of Effie, praying for Effie, hoping she was safe.

And after the war, when defeat was staring into his eyes, President Snow had surrendered, and the war had been won by the rebels. At that moment, Effie rushed towards him, and threw herself into his arms, her hair making her look so much younger.

'You're bleeding.' He had said, wiping the blood away from her forehead.

'So are you.' She replied, gesturing to his cheek. He wasn't going to lie, when he got out there and saw the state of the Capitol, saw the peacekeepers and rebels fighting, fought himself with rivals, he knew it would scar him, and no doubt would it scar Effie too.

'You didn't kill anybody did you?'

'No. I couldn't. I knew I was part of the rebellion, knew I hated the Capitol, knew it had to burn, but I couldn't kill anybody. It just didn't feel right. So I helped with unloading weapons and things, and there was plenty of shots being fired at me. Luckily I only got away with a cut.'

'Did you kill anybody?' She asked back, her arms round his shoulders.

'I killed peacekeepers. That was it. I didn't feel like killing Capitol citizens, even if they were good or bad people.'

'Are you sure you're alright?' He asked, his eyes flicking back to the scar on her forehead.

'I'm more than alright now you're here.'

She kissed him, among the rebels, among the eyes of Coin and Plutarch, of everyone else, but again, they didn't care. That is, until Katniss and Peeta interrupted them. They looked naturally embarrassed, and left, knowing that they might not get away with no one knowing, cause most people did know now. Oh well.


	8. Chapter 8

She hesitated at the door. She didn't know why, but something made her stop. She was nervous, not knowing what to do. Should she knock? Ring the doorbell that was guaranteed not to work? She swallowed, her posture retaining its usual balance. She leant forward to see if she could move the doorknob. It swung open. Typical Haymitch. He couldn't even lock his own door.

'Ah, look who it is.' He said, strolling towards her, the humorous grin she couldn't resist displayed on his face.

'Nice to see you too Haymitch.'

She carried her bags to a small cupboard, and stored them away safely, Haymitch pursuing her.

'You know, you could've just left them at the door sweetheart.'

'It's better organisation and it's tidier.' She chided 'I see you haven't been cleaning at all. It's ridiculously messy and you have clothes, cutlery, knives...strewn over the floor. And bottles! I knew you wouldn't stay sober for much longer.'

'You're lecturing me like an old women. You just came into my house and already you start to criticise the hospitality! And as much as I stayed sober, you didn't stay natural.' He retaliated, gesturing to her wig.

'At least I have less makeup on. But liquor...whiskey...wine bottles. I should think you'd have drunk all the alcohol in the world by now!'

'Effie we're doing all this bickering and yet you haven't even said hello to me.' He said back in a flattering tone.

She paused, looking to him and the scruffy floor beneath them. She embraced him slowly, replying back to him as she withdrew to stare him in the eye. 'Hello.'

Seconds passed.

'Have you heard any news of...' He said, trailing off at the end, but she knew what he meant.

'The Capitol is in ruins. It's not doing very good. Resources are low and the streets have finally been cleaned of dead corpses.'

He swallowed, his eyes looking away.

'Katniss and Peeta are staying together.' She said, and Haymitch looked at her again, a surprising yet smug look on his face, a small smile appearing.

'Gale's in District 2. Haven't heard anything at all. Katniss is quite disappointed, but she has Peeta.'

'Who do you have?' He asked unexpectedly.

'I-' she looked down, blinking her eyes while replying.

'I don't have anyone. Not really.'

'Wrong. You have Katniss and Peeta and me.'

Her heart jumped when he said 'me.' He smiled down at her, eyes twinkling.

'Well, we are still a team.' She said.

'Always a team.' He replied.

She looked back down again, a serious look on her face.

'We really don't know what to do. Society has led us nowhere. I really don't know what the future will bring.'

'We don't need to worry about the future. We only need to think of now. Live in the moment. All that stuff.' He explained.

'I always thought you were wise. But never inspirational.'

'I can be a lot of things you never thought I could be.'

'I'm sure you can.' She said, her tone flattering.

The day went by with as much normality as any quiet and peaceful day was.

All the tapes of the Games had been destroyed and everything to do with it was never talked of, never implied of.

Katniss and Peeta joined them in that afternoon. They all sat and talked, wine pouring from bottle to glass (mostly from Haymitch's). It was just like how it used to be, being the escort, being the mentor, being the tributes, being a team, albeit the pressure of the terrible Games lifted from their shoulders.

The humour, the sarcasm and the relentless banter never left Haymitch's personality. She admired it-no him-so greatly, that even after all the change, all the fighting, the rebellions, the destruction...he was the same person. He had always been the same person, frozen, unchanging. She loved it-loved him.

When Katniss and Peeta left, it was quiet, it was peaceful, and they sat there, until Haymitch drank the rest of his wine, and stood up, walking toward her, his arm extended, his eyes shining.

'I need a distraction sweetheart.' he drawled.

'From what?' She said, rising from the chair to take his hand.

'Everything.' He whispered, his face inches from hers.

'Am I your distraction?' She asked.

'The best one.' He said, twirling her around.

'Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?'

'You're the first, and you've said it so many times already.'

'I'm honoured.'

He kept her close, his scruffy beard close to her chin, and she could smell him, the smell of alcohol, intoxication, but also a sweetness she couldn't name. He smelled like Haymitch, he smelled like his humour, his sarcasm, his aptitude of drinking entire bottles in one night.

'I've loved you for a long time.' She whispered, her hands to his shoulders. They slow-danced around, his heartbeat loud enough to hear.

'I doubt you've loved me as much as I've loved you.' He said, looking down at her, his eyes intense.

'There were times when I detested you Haymitch Abernathy. There were times when I couldn't stand you, when I hated you. There were other times when I appreciated you, loved you enough to keep going. But then they're are the times, most frequently...when I hate you as much as I love you.'

'Pretty much sums our relationship up.'

He said, jokingly, referring back to their conversation in District 13.

Her heart was against his chest, his lips pressed to her neck, and she was falling for his eyes, but they didn't know her yet. She only started to realise that she had never properly looked at his eyes, he had never looked at hers; it was like they could finally fully see each other, rather than how they used to see, as if through a window that made everything a blur.

'Stay with me.' He said, his voice gravelly, but smooth.

She didn't say anything, just stared at him as if he was speaking another language.

'Effie Trinket...stay with me. Forever. The Capitol is hardly going to resurrect itself soon. You'd be better off staying with me Effie. Stay close to me. I love you. Stay. You need-'

She put her fingers to his lips, silencing him.

'I'd love to stay. Forever.' She whispered.

He twirled her once more, all seriousness from him gone.

He looked at her, smiling.

He picked up the wine bottle from the (mahogany) table beside them.

'I told you, I like you better without all that makeup.'

And he pulled her wig off, letting her natural blonde curls spill over her shoulders once more.

She stared at him for only a second more, when she threw the bottle out of his hands, the glass and liquid smashing on the floor, but she didn't care. As the sound of broken glass came, she threw herself into his arms, her hair falling around her shoulders in waves.

'I like you better sober.' She fired back.

She pulled him towards her, kissing him with as much force as she could. The world may have been changed, may have been engaged in war, may have caused peril; but the spark had burned brighter than ever, and they themselves hadn't changed. And Haymitch was the only remaining thing in the world. The only remaining thing in her world.


End file.
